


Rinse, repeat

by Gracelte



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I can't think of a nice title, I'm not sure if it will be explicit but better safe than sorry, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, MadaTobi - Freeform, Madara is Sasuke though not for a while, Naruto is Hashirama, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Tobirama is Done, Tobirama is Sakura, and I love it, but not really, gender identity issues because reincarnation, genderfluid tobirama, help me, i mean I wouldn't call it sasusaku but I wouldn't not call it sasusaku?, just in his own head though, kind of sasusaku, like really not for a really long time, madara and tobirama, not for a really long while though, reincarnation is complicated business, sasusaku fix-it of sorts, slow burn madatobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracelte/pseuds/Gracelte
Summary: Tobirama squirmed. He used to be better at lying to himself. Shaking his head, Tobirama firmly decided to just Not Think About It.Sighing, he patted his shortest bangs to lie flat on his forehead, forming a fringe that lay across his forehead, ending just above his eyes. Hispinkfringe on top of hisgreeneyes.This was going to take some getting used to.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [MadaTobi With Reincarnation Plot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16187339) by [ame_colours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ame_colours/pseuds/ame_colours). 



The sky rapidly darkened with the approaching dusk, the air alive with the quiet chittering of birds and critters as they hurried to their shelters for the night. Lying on his back, shallow breaths stuttering through partially closed lips, Tobirama blinked slowly as he took it all in. The vista wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, born and raised in the woods as he was. Today however, he couldn't help but appreciate the simple beauty of it all. The swirling red-orange-purple of the sunset, fat white clouds lit up reddish gold ever so subtly by the fading rays, easing by at a languid pace, the toothed leaves of the beech trees surrounding him, swaying to a symphony inaudible to anyone but them. A gentle breeze blew his bangs into his field of vision, red tinged white strands like blood soaked snow.

The prospect of death apparently put him in a poetic mood.

A dry, humorless little chuckle escaped him, gasping lungs weakly protesting the action. _'There's worse coping mechanisms when one's demise looms imminent,'_ he thought, darkly amused. He could be whiling away his last moments thinking of- No, he wasn't going to go there, not here, not now. He was not going to die drowning in regrets. He'd done enough. "Regrets are for the living," he told himself firmly, "Not for the dead and certainly not for the dying." It was for those who still had a life ahead to potentially make things right. Not for those with one foot in the next world. Strong words but they served poor defense against the influx of aforementioned thoughts. It wasn't surprising, trying too hard not to think about something almost guaranteed you'd think of nothing else.

Tobirama clenched his eyes shut, as if by the physical action he could squeeze out the long past but still lucid memories invading his less than coherent mindspace. His big massive oaf of a brother, with his booming laughter, his larger than life presence and complete disregard for Tobirama's personal space, his beloved students, the very ones he'd exchanged his life for, his pride and joy, little Tsunade and Nawaki, his unrepentantly impish grand-niblings... His heart clenched painfully as he thought of another set of small faces. Of tiny bodies and their tiny graves. He thought of the world he was leaving behind and his heart gave another painful jolt. Really, nothing had changed at all.

_'I'm sorry Anija.'_

He was close now, he could tell as he laid listless, staring as the first stars blinked into existence. He was woozy from the blood loss and his scope of vision was much narrower than it had been- just a minute ago actually for all that it felt like hours that he'd been lying on the cold, unforgiving dirt. With his last threads of consciousness, he determinedly did not think of unshorn raven locks, deceptively soft despite their shaggy appearance, a sharp wry grin, equal parts good humoured and predatory in a way he'd never seen on another, obsidian eyes bright and glinting with every emotion within the human range before they'd been singularly replaced by a dark, coiling insanity. 

This time, Tobirama's eyes fell shut almost of their accord. He felt something cold and wet slither down the side of his eye, traipsing down to be lost in his blood matted hair. 

_'Regrets aren't for the dying, regrets aren't for the dead,'_ he thought, a little desperately.

So what was this achingly familiar feeling curling in his chest, far too alive and roiling for a man almost dead. Why did his final exhale into the world taste so bitter. Bitter like old anger and deep seated resentment. 

_'I thought I was over this,'_ Tobirama thought in mild annoyance and more than a little exasperation before he drifted off for the last time.


	2. Boy meets girl

Mint green eyes peered back at him intently, curious with a measure of trepidation.  
  
Or rather, peered back at _her_ intently.  
  
Even at the tender age of 5, Tobirama could see this was going to be a problem. 'Although', Tobirama mused idly as he stared at his reflection, 'pronouns are the least of your troubles when you're a long dead male shinobi from a shinobi clan reborn as an essentially nameless female civilian in a village you had once helped build and rule.'  
  
Just thinking about it made Tobirama's little 5 year old brain dizzy. For all that he had the experience and knowledge of a lifetime, he ( _no she_ ) was in fact still just a child. _She_ did not understand nor know what to do with the knowledge which was essentially, so much legible gibberish floating around in her head. She was not equipped to handle all the stress that came with thinking about big things like reincarnation and civilian vs shinobi morality and gender identity and- he needed to stop. He was hyperventilating.  
  
Tobirama caught sight of his reflection again, _Sakura's_ reflection. He did not even want to contemplate what it meant that it was one and the same.  
  
Straight pink hair fell to down mid-way down her neck in a smooth sheath, shorter bangs curving around her jutting chin. Large, green, doe eyes where he was used to seeing slanting, cerise cat-like eyes. A snub, button nose where there used to be a straight, slim greek nose. Flat, undefined cheekbones in place of prominent, high ones. It felt like a prolonged henge for all that this was apparently now his actual body.  
  
"Who are you?" Tobirama whispered to himself, a little bewildered.  
  
' _Sakura_ ', something in his mind answered back that sounded suspiciously like Tobirama's voice, rather than the breathy, childish voice he knew Sakura had, _her_ voice now. Strange, you'd think the reaffirmation would come from the person she's supposed to be, not the person he was.  
  
It was all a bit too confusing.  
  
Little fingers grasped a small section of the rosy locks, observing the unusual colour. While Tobirama, with his 2 parts adult shinobi sensibilities and 1 part little boy sensibilities found such a bright colour discomfiting (pink was for _girls_ ), another part of him, the _Sakura_ part, the _little girl_ part was delighted with the cutesy shade. It was the oddest feeling in the world. For all that he was Tobirama, there was a part of him that wasn't _quite_ Tobirama, albeit a tiny, tiny part but still conspicuous in it's presence.  
  
  
He did not know what to do with that.  
  
  
' _At the very least, the texture is vastly improved this time around,_ ' Tobirama thought, recalling the untameable silver locks of his previous life. He'd mostly ignored it then. This time around though, Tobirama mused as he twirled a lock around his pointer finger, he may win his battles against the hairbrush. Nevertheless, it seemed he was just fated to have unusual colouring and not even reincarnation could change that.  
  
' _Just like this,_ ' Tobirama silently lamented, small fingers brushing across what was a disproportionately large forehead for an otherwise small, heart shaped face. It seemed his massive forehead was also determined to stick with him, even through different lifetimes, different family lines. 'Which is utterly ridiculous' Tobirama silently fumed. You'd think with the complete revamping that his entire appearance had undergone, the compete 180 his _sex_  had done, he'd catch a break with his forehead.  
No such luck.  
  
While his forehead had never bothered him much in his previous life, he'd most certainly been aware of it. The Happuri had been perfect. It camouflaged his not-so-desirable facial feature, while also providing a measure of protection to what felt like a rather large target area. He refused to admit the tattoos had served any purpose other than intimidation. Mild body modification was quite common among shinobi, a stud here, a tattoo there. It helped them reassert their sense of individuality, something that reinforced their sense of self in a culture that made it far too easy to lose oneself in the web of anonymity, shadows and discretion. And if it doubled as something that helped throw your enemies off track for even a second because to a shinobi a second was _everything_ , then all the better. It had been no different for him. It most certainly was not meant to attract attention away from his ginormous forehead. He wasn't that conscious of it thank you very much.  
  
Tobirama squirmed. He used to be better at lying to himself. Shaking his head, Tobirama firmly decided to just Not Think About It.  
  
Sighing, he patted his shortest bangs to lie flat on his forehead, forming a fringe that lay across his forehead ending just above his eyes. His _pink_ fringe on top of his _green_ eyes.  
  
This was going to take some getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't really give a proper time-frame, but I'll be updating once week at least on any given day.


	3. First day of school

 

Tobirama twitched, attempting to ignore the stare he could feel boring in to the side of his head. 

  
He may have had a mother for only 8 years collectively, combining both his lifetimes but he knew a trap when he saw one.  
  
Knowledge of the same however, did not render him immune to the power of the 'stare'. Sighing in disgust at himself because it seemed he would _always_ cave to his family's manipulations no matter the lifetime, Tobirama snapped his head up to look at his mother, sighing tiredly when she quickly looked away, pretending like she hadn't just been scrutinizing him.  
  
Tobirama pursed his lips, debating whether to play the fool and go back to his grilled fish and rice but he'd already tried that and it didn't _work_. The moment he looked away from her, she'd take to staring at him again, silently imploring, waiting for him to bring it up. With another long-suffering sigh, he placed his chopsticks down, body turning towards her before he asked,  
  
"Is something the matter, haha-ue?" Tobirama asked quietly, resigned to suffering through a 30 min discourse on whatever had her ruffled at the moment.  
  
"Mama or Kaa-chan. Kaa-san if you must ," she corrected almost absently, having long ago given up on actually giving him a hard time for using such formal language but silently persisting in her attempts to get him to loosen up nontheless.  
  
Tobirama shifted uncomfortably. For all that he was an altogether different person now, he was still very much Senju Tobirama (and suspected he always would be.) Tobirama had been raised in much more austere times and in a very different kind of household. Parents were parents, they were authority figures, people you had to respect, obey and oblige. Parents weren't _friends_ , no matter how much his new mother insisted so. Butsuma would've backhanded him if he ever dared to end his title with _chan_. Tobirama grimaced, remembering all too well Hashirama getting punished for being too candid with their father at times. Admittedly, he did not know if his mother would've been the same, having lost her at just 3 years of age when she'd delivered Kawarama. Senju Yashinau had been a regal woman, a Hatake scion and while she'd never demanded to be addressed formally (which was really all their father's doing), she'd never discouraged it either. ' _More than likely though_ ,' Tobirama reflected, not for the first time, ' _it was to avoid another point of contention with Father. Not when they already had so much they disagreed upon_.' Vague memories of gentle smiles swirled in his mind's eye, of soft kisses placed in his hair, dulcet tones whispering nothing in particular, of slightly trembling hands clutching his shoulders and pulling him against a warm chest whilst sneering at his father, incensed, as the man insisted he needed to train. Tobirama shook his head to clear himself of the echoes of a lifetime past. He hadn't thought of his mother much in the later years of his previous life, heavier things weighing on his mind. There was little use thinking of her now. At this point, she would be dead over a hundred years. Besides..  
  
' _I have a different mother now_.' His mother for only 5 years and Mebuki Haruno had already outlived his previous mother. Had in fact, been his mother _longer_ than Yashinau.

' _And she will continue to be so, if I have anything to say about it_ ,' Tobirama thought fiercely. Second lifetime or not, Mebuki was still his mother, had borne and birthed him and he'd be damned if he lost his mother again.  
  
  
He could see though, why the 'Haha-ue' would make her so uncomfortable. They weren't a noble family after all wherein it was more commonplace to speak in such a manner.  
  
' _She probably thinks I'm being delusional_ ,' Tobirama conceded with an internal sigh. If only she knew. He'd try but it wasn't easy, breaking the habits of a lifetime. He'd been raised in formality, lived his life in strict observance of etiquette and discipline. First as the clan head's son, then the heir, finally as Clan Head and Hokage. His life was steeped in formality to point that he eventually found a strange sort of comfort in it. Maybe he should just-  
  
"Are you even listening to me? Sakura-chan? Sakura?!"  
  
' _Oh right. That's me_.' Tobirama thought, bewildered and then immediately feeling annoyed at himself for the sentiment even as he outwardly responded to his mother, mumbling whatever would soothe her. He was so used to doing it by now he didn't really have to pay conscious attention to what he was saying.  
  
' _You'd think I'd be accustomed to it, my name now, even if nothing else_ ,'Tobirama thought, miffed. For all that he'd mostly accepted his new persona as Sakura Haruno, ordinary civilian girl born to first generation chakra-users as opposed to the heir of a centuries old shinobi family, sometimes when he was too into his head, reminiscing on past life events, the present world slipped away from him and he'd fail to answer to his name. Too busy being Tobirama to be Sakura. Tobirama's lips quirked downwards. It was distracting and got overwhelming at times, juggling between the two. He so hated being limited to a child's body and mental capacities again.  
  
Whatever excuse he'd given her must have worked because his mother was speaking again in that roundabout way of hers which usually meant that whatever she actually wanted to talk about had the potential of making Tobirama very uncomfortable indeed. She seemed to think small talk would distract him, soften the blow somehow, make it look like the actual topic was just something that randomly occured to her and wasn't premeditated. It might've even worked, Tobirama mused, on any other child. But he'd been a politician for over 40 years. He could smell bullshit from miles away. Even coming from his own mother. Tobirama quirked a brow when his mother paused, finally seeming to have bored herself with the inane topic of going shopping for new shoes for Sakura.  
  
Mebuki looked at him intently for a moment before speaking. "Sakura-chan," she began delicately, reaching out to grab one of her small hands in her own callused ones as she spoke, "Have you seen your friend lately? The one who used to teach you things? And what about those strange dreams you used to have? Those flashbacks that you'd talk about all the time? The ones where you're well.." she trailed off, hesitant to finish her own sentence.  
  
' _Nidaime Hokage, Senju Tobirama_ ,' Tobirama finished for her mentally, exasperated. He'd thought they'd left this behind. It seemed the prospect of him starting Academy had renewed her worries. ' _She's probably worried I'll tell the other kids who I actually am. Or as she believes it, who I seem to **imagine** I am_.' Tobirama reflected with amusement and the slightest hint of bitterness.  
  
_He'd been 3 years old, just beginning to have coherent thought processes when he'd remembered the first memory of his past life. He'd been 3 in the memory as well so at first it'd taken him a few minutes to realize what he was seeing wasn't what he was experiencing at the moment and even when he did realize, he hadn't been able to completely separate the two. One moment he'd been just little Sakura Haruno, playing in the little sand pit her parents had set up for her in the backyard of their small home and the next moment he'd been Senju Tobirama, picking up his first practice sword from the armory and walking towards the large expansive training grounds of the Senju compound, more than a little terrified but excited nonetheless. Before she knew it, she'd been darting across the courtyard, phantom sword clutched in her hands as she sparred against his cousin Touka, a few years older than him. She twisted, ducked and parried the best she could, applying what little she knew just from observing Hashirama and Touka's spars. She was a genius yes and would one day be one of the most powerful ninjas in the elemental nations but for now she was still too little and her arms were too short and her legs nowhere nimble enough and Touka had age, strength, experience, skill and everything else that counted on her and soon managed to land a hit on him, jabbing him sharply in the right knee. Tobirama had collapsed with a sharp cry, clutching his throbbing knee whilst biting down on the back of his hand to muffle his whimpers of pain, knowing Father was observing and he would be very displeased if he heard Tobirama crying like a little baby on top of getting hit but no that wasn't Touka's hand gruffly patting him on the back, encouraging him to unfold and let her have a look at his knee. Instead, big warm hands grabbed him by the armpits whilst pulling him onto a broad lap, all the while murmuring soothing nonsense in her ears. A blonde haired woman was peering at him in concern and that wasn't Touka he didn't know who this pale haired woman was but oh she did didn't she? This was his mother but mother was dead she'd died just a week ago and everytime Tobirama thought about it he wanted to cry but Father would get mad if he caught Tobirama crying but Papa wasn't like that he'd never yell at Sakura for crying and what was happening Sakura couldn't understand, she didn't understand who was Tobirama? Her last thought before she passed out was how weird it would be to have 2 sets of parents even if one of his mothers was dead._  
  
_He'd later woken up in bed, in Sakura's bed, not Tobirama's, to his parents on either side of him, staring at him in undisguised concern. Kizashi had been the first one to break the silence, asking if Sakura-chan had twisted her leg because he couldn't see any visible bruise on the knee she had been clutching. By this point, Sakura had mostly calmed down and begun to make sense of things and Tobirama, even as a toddler had been frighteningly brilliant and already had a vague idea of what was happening and proceeded to explain as much to his current parents. No, she was fine. She wasn't hurt anywhere except her pride for not being able to differentiate reality from visions. Tobirama had been the one who'd hurt himself during his very first swordplay practice with his cousin. His parents had been quiet for a long while, dearly wishing to dismiss it as a child's ramblings but not quite able to because Sakura had always been a down to earth, level headed child, it wasn't like her to launch into fanciful tales out of the blue. They were both shinobi and they'd seen too many things to dismiss anything that prickled their instincts. Mebuki had quietly asked her what did Tobirama getting hurt have anything to do with Sakura and how could she possibly know about the Nidaime-sama's childhood injuries, surely those weren't the sort of things you'd find even in those esoteric encyclopaedias that Sakura loved so much. Tobirama had then foolishly, foolishly proceeded to tell them how he thought he might be the second hokage's reincarnation and that incident in the backyard might be the first of the memories of his past life coming back to him. Understandably, her parents had been startled and asked Sakura if she'd hit her head before they'd arrived. Tobirama had felt offended in every single inch of his 3 year old body and it had only sipralled downwards from there. All her books had been taken away and she wasn't left alone anymore and when she'd tried to convince them by relating more memories as they'd come to her, memories nobody but Tobirama himself could possibly know, they'd made him see a shrink._  
  
In retrospect, trying to convince his parents that he was Tobirama by telling them things only Tobirama could know was a rather backwards plan simply because there was no way to verify the veracity of these statements because _only Tobirama had known. 'What was I thinking_?' Tobirama mused in embarassment. He hadn't been thinking. He'd be 3 and he'd been a stupid little brat. But thankfully, he'd been smart enough to realize that if he wanted to be treated like a normal, sane person he really needed to shut up about being the goddamn ex-hokage. Nobody really believed in reincarnation (Tobirama himself had been on the fence about it in his past lifetime and he'd known more than most people) and they certainly weren't going to start believing it from a 3 year old. He'd then made up an even taller tale about the Nidaime Hokage being her imaginary friend who taught Sakura things and trained her to be a strong kunoichi though the latter was mostly to have a cover up story in case he ever had an episode like his first time again. His parents had been suspicious at first but the shrink had reassured them that it was normal for kids her age to imagine larger than life presences to comfort them, especially a single child like her. Her parents had seemed willing to accept that and hadn't made him go see the shrink again. The following year had been the most trying of Tobirama's short second life. He'd constantly be hounded at random intervals by his parents, asking if Sakura still had those visions and did she still think she was Tobirama and even if that were somehow the case it wasn't possible because the Nidaime had very much been a man and you're a girl Sakura-chan. Tobirama had so often wished to lash out at them, demanding why they couldn't just _believe_ him and did they really think he could make up something like Hashirama's habit of bedwetting till he was 10 years old. But Tobirama had always been logical, even as a child. He wasn't Hashirama, prone to outbursts of passion and righteous rage. He knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears and struggling would only make things harder for him in the future and he really couldn't afford to be shut in the loony bin for the rest of his life. So Tobirama had sucked it up, harshly clamped down on every bit of rebellion his 3 year old heart could muster and continued with his story of an imaginary friend, making it seem like he was gradually fading away as Sakura got older and stronger and smarter and didn't need an imaginary friend anymore because she was a big girl. His parents' scrutiny had eventually tapered off, ceasing altogether a few months ago, apparently satisfied with their daughters' mental stability.  
  
' _Until now_ ,' Tobirama mused, cocking his head as if in confusion while he debated how to answer. He briefly toyed with the idea of feigning absolutely no memory of the incident. Afterall, children were capricious with short memory spans and even shorter attention spans. It wouldn't be too far fatched that Sakura had completely forgotten about the whole thing. But..  
  
Her mother was looking at her too sharply, like a predator waiting for the slightest hint of vulnerability before swooping down and grabbing you between her jaws.  
  
Tobirama shuddered. Mebuki Haruno may not be the fearsome, untenable kunoichi Yashinau Senju had been but she was no less shrewd and intimidating. This was not a woman Tobirama could throw a half baked excuse at and run away. The moment she smelled blood, she'd be in the water, viciously nipping at his heels. No, if Tobirama wanted to make it to his Academy entrance ceremony anytime within the next 10 years, he had to tread carefully.  
  
Blinking slowly, Tobirama turned back to her breakfast, poking at the cooling rice with her chopsticks. "Oh, you mean Tobi-chan?" she murmured quietly, internally cringing at the awful nickname his brother had foisted on him and he'd been forced to use multiple times now. "I do miss him," she intoned, ignoring Mebuki's slow inhale. "But-," she paused, taking a bite of her fish, glad that her great love for fish had survived her rebirth, allowing her to continue eating even the slightly cold meat. "But?" Her mother prompted, forearms propped up on the table, hands folded on top of each other to make a platform for her chin as she leaned forward ever so slightly, closely studying Sakura's face.  
  
Tobirama kept her face a careful mix of childish nostalgia and quiet acceptance as she spoke, "But I'm a big girl now and I'll be going to the Academy where I have real instructors to teach me things." Done with her breakfast, Sakura set down her chopsticks, slightly shifting in her seat. "Besides," she continued as she slowly hopped down from the chair, moving to stand closer to her mother, "Tobi couldn't teach me much anyway as he wasn't real. It was just stuff I'd already read about him." Sakura shrugged and proceeded to give her mother a slightly judgemental look as she should already know these things what with being an adult and all.  
  
Mebuki blinked, laughing nervously even as she relaxed, shoulders drooping down in quiet relief. "Iie Sakura-chan. Mama was just asking. You know how curious she gets!" She laughed even as she ushered Sakura to her room to get her ready for the academy.  
  
Tobirama sighed internally, allowing herself to be herded to her room. That was close.  
  
_'Today is turning out to be an interesting day.'_

 

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

  
Standing in the line-up of what had to be at least over 20 other prospective genin, Tobirama peered around curiously. His sensor's sight was lit up with the kindling chakra of the young and immature, interspersed in between with the larger and more developed signatures of the various chunin and jonin level instructors and lingering parents. Two of which were...  
  
Brows furrowed, Tobirama glanced over his shoulder to throw a mildly annoyed look at his parents, trying to get them to leave, sighing when they took that as an indication to wave at him for the umpteenth time.  
  
Spinning on his heels, he decided to walk over to them and personally send them off. If he didn't Tobirama suspected they would attempt to sit in on his class too.  
  
He understood their hesitance, really. Considering the far more peaceful and stable times they lived in, there was really no need for Tobirama to join the Academy so early. He was in fact the youngest in his class that consisted mostly of 7-8 year olds. But Tobirama wasn't a regular 5 year old. He was, always has been a genius and despite their unwillingness to believe anything else, they too had to acknowledge they had an extraordinarily intelligent child on their hands. They couldn't afford to treat her like a toddler. She was too smart, too inquisitive, too _restless_. Making her wait another 3 years to join the Academy for no reason other than age would have positively driven her up the walls. In his first lifetime (or first as far as he knew) he'd already started low level scouting and patrol missions by this age. The Academy was nothing in comparison.  
  
  
_'Which they would know if they chose to believe me and would have made this whole episode a lot easier,'_ Tobirama thought, peeved.  
  
He'd take a long time to stop being salty about that.  
  
It was weird, Tobirama decided, having parents that fussed over him so much even as he outwardly reassured them that yes she'd grabbed her bento and water canteen. Yes he had his notebooks and stationary in order. No he thought it highly unlikely he wouldn't be able to hold his pee in until the scheduled breaks. Yes he was aware he could simply ask for permission to go the washroom if such a thing did come to pass.  
While Butsuma had by no means, been an uncaring father, little first-times like his first day of formal schooling, his first succesful jutsu never earned anything more than an approving nod from the man. The only occasion he could remember that even vaguely resembled pampering had been after his first kill. And even that hadn't involved any hugging or kissing or excessive fretting. Butsuma had simply taken him into his office, served him tea and just sat with him in silence for hours, for the very first time ignoring the tears and quiet sniffling from Tobirama. Once he'd managed to compose himself, his father had simply walked around the table, squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and left.  
  
' _And then there's him_ ,' Tobirama thought, staring at Kizashi's concerned face. He knew from experience the man was struggling not to pull him into a hug for the hundredth time that morning, not wanting to embarass her in front of her peers.  
  
Tobirama wasn't completely sure what to do with an attentive father.  
  
Not that he resented Butsuma. Those had been different times. They'd been at war and he'd been clan head. Even if he were so inclined, the man never had the _luxury_ to be a good father. What he had been was an excellent teacher, drill sergeant and commander. He'd made sure him and Hashirama had survived to adulthood, he'd made sure they were competent enough to live on even long after he'd passed, he'd done everything he could to make sure the clan survived, _thrived_ even after his time and for that, Tobirama would be eternally grateful to him.  
  
He was just in the middle of convincing them that he'd be able to find his way home after school and no he didn't need them to pick him up when he felt it. A chakra signature like the sun itself, starburst bright and intense unlike anything he'd ever felt before, well, anything he'd felt before in _this_ lifetime. Tobirama sucked in his breath, daring, hoping...  
  
"Are you sure honey? You can find your way home?" Mebuki intoned anxiously and Tobirama could _scream_ he didn't have time for this anymore.  
  
' _Calm_ ,' he berated himself. Getting worked up now would only make his parents more suspicious and inevitably delay their departure. He'd almost convinced them, he just had to appear collected.  
  
' _Easier said than done_ ,' Tobirama lamented, practically vibrating with impatience. He could feel that distinctive aura drawing closer, laced with something else that was also strangely familiar but not in conjunction with this particular person.  
  
His parents seemed to have caught on to his impatience and misread it as being in response to their fluttering. (which to be fair, in part it was) Straightening up, Kizashi reached forward to ruffle her hair one last time, nodding to his wife. They threw one last comforting smile at her before they turned away, leaping to the rooftops towards the administrative building.  
  
Finally free of his hovering parents, Tobirama turned sideways, senses zoning in on the small figure ambling along the path that led to the Academy. Sunlight glinted off the large goggles sitting astride the boy's blonde locks, arms crossed behind his upturned head. A wide toothy grin was framed by whisker-shaped marks on both cheeks, lending to his overall goofy appearance.  
  
' _At least his hairstyle is better this time around_ ,' Tobirama mused in fond exasperation as he watched the little blonde boy draw closer the congregation of academy students.  
  
For some reason, he'd never imagined Hashirama would be reincarnated as well.  
  
Now that he was playing close attention he could make out that other something coiling at the centre of his brother's chakra. Vast, furious and as old as time itself.  
  
' _Kyuubi no Kitsune_ ,' Tobirama realized, heart stuttering in his chest even as his mind raced to compute this new information.  
  
It made sense. Mito, for all her unnaturally long lifespan by virtue of being Uzumaki, was still very much mortal. They would have required a different vessel at her passing. Preferably an Uzumaki. Their massive, formidable chakra was well suited to subdue the bijuu's volatile chakra and he could tell his brother's reincarnation was an Uzumaki, despite the lack of that distinctive red hair. Though why an 8 year was serving as a jinchuuriki when surely there were other adult Uzumaki to do the job was something he hadn't quite figured out yet but he would. He hated jumping to conclusions without pertinent information and so ruthlessly supressed all the less than pleasant scenarios he was imagining that could have led to this situation.  
  
Tobirama had always prided himself on his equanimity. Hashirama may have been hailed as the Shinobi no Kami but no one could contest that Tobirama had been the smarter, sharper, more equable of the brothers.  
  
Therefore, Tobirama was as surprised as he was mortified when he proceeded to put his entire foot in his mouth with the first word he spoke to his brother in this lifetime.  
  
"Hashi," he called out, unable to stop himself from reverting to his childhood nickname for his brother in face of the overwhelming emotions running rampant through his body. To have Hashirama alive again. Alive and whole and untouched by war and strife and oh he had _missed_ his brother something fierce.  
  
He only realized what he'd said when the blonde boy looked over at him curiously, grin dropping as confusion twisted his features, squinting his eyes closed and making him remarkably resemble a fox.  
  
' _Stupid, stupid_.' Tobirama was an _idiot_. Hashirama was not his Hashi anymore. Hadn't been in a long time. Not since the river. Not since Izuna. Not since _Madara_...  
  
Forcefully clamping down on the pervading dark thoughts, Tobirama scrambled to come up with something, _anything_ to say when he was beaten to the punch.  
  
"Chopsticks?" The boy repeated curiously, cocking his head as he blinked big blue eyes at Tobirama before breaking into that blinding grin again. "Is that your way of saying you'll be treating me to ramen? Because I'd _loooove_ to have ramen." He exclaimed, arms opening wide to, presumably, indicate how much he loved ramen.  
  
If Tobirama thought his mind was churning with too many thoughts before, it was nothing compared to the absolute _chaos_ that was roaring through his head now.  
  
Prioritize, prioritize, his mind screamed at him even as his heart sank as he came to several realizations at once.  
  
One, his brother had no memory of his past life, had _no_ awareness of an existence other than his present one. Two, his brother was just as much of an idiot as he'd ever been. Really, Tobirama should've seen this one coming. Hashirama being a self-possessed, composed, dignified individual in _any_ lifetime was about as likely as Tobirama being a vapid, ditzy fangirl. Three, Hashirama being born Uzumaki meant he wouldn't have the Mokuton this time around. Any vague ideas Tobirama may have had of helping his brother master his unique kekkai genkai fizzled away as he realized his brother would have to develop a unique fighting style from scratch. And finally, for all that this boy was Hashirama reborn, if he didn't have Hashirama's memories, was he even Hashirama at all?  
  
As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Tobirama ruthlessly quelled it. He was letting childish emotions get the best of him. _Of course_ this was Hashirama. While he may not have any recollection of his life as Hashirama Senju, looked nothing like the man, while he was no more even a _Senju_ , he was still Hashirama, mind and soul, he was Hashirama in every aspect that _truly_ mattered, in every way that counts. He was just as much Hashirama as he himself was Tobirama and _nothing_ could change that. Not their vastly different circumstances nor their bodies. He was still Tobirama's beloved _anija_ and nothing could get in the way of that.  
  
Abruptly realizing he couldn't call the boy Anjia despite that he was older than him even in this lifetime, Tobirama cleared his throat, finally opening his mouth to answer the boy's question.  
  
"Ano.. you're my senpai. Shouldn't _you_ be treating me?" Tobirama asked cheekily, watching as the boy spluttered.  
  
"Bu-but you're taller than me dattebayo!" The boy exclaimed, aghast, waving his arms about as if he wasn't sure what to do with them anymore.  
  
"That's because I'm a girl. Girls develop fasted than boys initially." Tobirama explained sagely, biting his cheek to keep from laughing outright at the way the boy hung his head in defeat, a purple cloud of despair practically visible over his head, reminiscent of Hashirama's sulks. He couldn't believe he'd thought even for a minute that this wasn't his goofball older brother. And then because Tobirama had _always_ been a little shit even if very few people knew it, he proceeded to add, "Or maybe you're just a runt," he shrugged helplessly, making a show of shaking his head sadly and tutting at the flushed, indignant boy.  
  
"Am not!" The boy screamed loudly, prompting some of the other kids to shush him and glare at him in equal measure. "I'm going to be taller than you one day. I'm going to be Hokage and then I'm going to be taller and higher than everybody! Believe it!" He declared, feet apart, pointing at himself, his grin back in full force.  
  
Tobirama felt his heart swell with affection even as he outwardly simply mumured a 'We'll see.'  
  
_'Hashirama and his grand dreams.'_ He thought fondly as he watched the boy still in surprise for a second before crossing his arms, nodding vigorously. _'Some things will never change.'_ Speaking of things that do change, "Do you have a name, 'o' future Hokage?" He asked curiously. He hadn't been terribly impressed with his own cliché name, perhaps his brother had better luck..  
  
"Uzumaki Naruto dattebayo!" He exclaimed, adjusting his goggles which, now that he was looking, he noticed had 'Naruto' printed on the bridge.  
  
_'...Nevermind,'_ Tobirama mused. Sakura wasn't such a bad name. At least it didn't mean fishcake.  
  
"Sakura Haruno. So, are you buying me ramen then?" Tobirama hedged whilst also introducing herself.  
  
"Sakura-chan! Is it because your hair is pink?" Naruto giggled, briefly tugging at one of Sakura's short bangs before adding, "If I treat you, does this mean you're my friend?" Naruto asked hopefully, eyes wide and beseeching in a way that made something cold settle in Tobirama's heart.  
  
"Of course," Tobirama replied, smiling at the boy's delighted yelp, raising his hand to meet his fist bump even as his mind whirled with the mournful expression on the other boy's face. Hashirama had always been a cheerful, friendly child. People naturally flocked to him, making friends came much easier to him than it ever had his surly younger brother.  
  
_'So why did he look at me like he expected me to reject him?'_ Why had he looked at Sakura like she was the first friend he'd ever made? Tobirama didn't know, but he very much intended to find out.

 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

 

As they joined the group of children, Tobirama couldn't help but let his thoughts wander again. He was still hard pressed to believe he'd actually found Hashirama, it seemed too fantastical to be true. Admittedly, he had thought he'd felt his brother's chakra signature once or twice around the village since awakening his memories and his latent sensor abilities. But he'd thought he'd just been imagining things, trying to stave off the crippling sense of loneliness he'd felt in the early days of gaining his memories back. To feel less like he was just one insignificant sapling straining against the tide of this huge new world that was _home_ but at the same time so unfamiliar to him. And his sensing was nothing like it used to be. His range and sensitivity far diminished as compared to what _Senju_ Tobirama's had been capable of.  
  
He was still just a child so of course his abilities weren't fully developed yet. Even so, Tobirama suspected, _knew_ for a fact that even at her prime, Sakura would never be quite as powerful as Tobirama had been.  
  
He wasn't naive. For all that he'd been exceptionally gifted, his Senju lineage had given him a great many advantages. Huge chakra reserves, an innate talent for all five nature releases notwithstanding that his primary element had been water release, a naturally greater sensitivity to the pulse of _life_ and _chakra_. They were called the 'clan with a thousand skills' for a reason. Why they were known as the Senju clan of the  _forest._ Even if he hadn't had the Mokuton like Hashirama did, bending nature to his will had still come significantly easier to him and his family than most shinobi outside the clan. Tobirama frowned, Hashirama wasn't the only one who would have to completely revamp his fighting style. Tobirama would need to greatly compensate for his body's limitations.  
  
He paused as he felt a familiar chakra signature approaching from the administrative section, fondness curling in his chest like an old friend as he laid eyes on the owner of said signature.  
  
Hiruzen Sarutobi, Sandaime Hokage slowly walked up to the podium, the pipe dangling from withered lips bobbing ever so slightly as he beamed brightly at the youngest batch of Academy students.  
  
_'Never thought I'd see Saru as an old, wizened man,'_ Tobirama mused, bittersweet and nostalgic, as he watched the Hokage launch into his customary welcome speech. Memories of a young, rambunctious boy running around his feet all the way to the level-headed, matured young teen he'd entrusted his cherished village to. Who'd have thought he'd one day be looking _up_  boy he'd watched grow into a man.  
  
He was entertaining himself imagining Saru's face if he ever decided to come clean to the man when Tobirama received the second great shock of all his five years of being alive.  
  
His hands curled into fists at his side, shoulders tensing even as he kept close vigil on the hurriedly approaching chakra signature, followed closely by another unfamiliar one, jonin level and probably the boy's mother.  


Tobirama firmly kept his eyes trained ahead, having absolutely _no desire_ to focus on that particular person for all that all his senses were in fact, _hyperfocused_ on him. 

  
Once he arrived, the boy seemed to linger for a few moments at the tree where Tobirama's own parents had been less than 10 mins ago, presumably exchanging goodbyes with his mother. The moment the kunoichi left, the boy walked over to the huddle of children. Tobirama stiffened when he came to stand right beside him, flanking him on his right whilst Hashirama flanked his left.  
  
"Did I miss anything?" A quiet voice addressed him, high pitched and slightly squeaky like all children's voices tended to be.  
  
Tobirama wanted to ignore him, wanted to pretend like he didn't exist, like he'd never sensed him and he wasn't now standing beside and asking him a perfectly innocent question as if, as if...  
  
"Nothing much," he replied, careful to keep his voice even as he tried to suppress his internal turmoil, desperately chanting _calm, calm, calm_ as despite himself, he slowly turned to look over at the boy.  
  
Uchiha Madara smiled back at him, wide eyed and round faced, nary a care in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit late but finally fit for consumption (I think? Lol)  
> Much bigger than the previous chapters, though this is going to be the average size of the chapters from here onwards. I've always liked them big, hope you guys do too. :p
> 
> Yashinau: roughly translates to 'to feed'. In observance of Hatake naming traditions in the anime which seem to be based around fields and crops.


	4. Of things that come to pass

 

 _'Sasuke Uchiha_.'  
  
The name echoed in Tobirama's mind, playing on endless loop like a song you couldn't get out of your head despite your best efforts.  
  
Not that Tobirama was putting in a whole lot of effort anyway, what with the way he just  _couldn't stop staring._  
  
Blinking rapidly Tobirama whipped his head back to the teacher speaking at the head of the class, trying not to tilt it again just a little to the  _left and front_ \- he really needed to stop.  
  
He couldn't help it. He used to be  _in love_  with this man, or rather the man this boy used to be before. Before they were all thrust into this loop of life and death, before they were Sasuke and Sakura and Naruto, before when they were still Madara and Tobirama and Hashirama, before Madara had become a broken, devastated, cruel man whose only goal in life was to attempt to make others experience the same pain he did, before he'd betrayed the village, betrayed Hashirama, betrayed  _Tobirama_.  
  
As if he'd been dealt a sudden, solid blow to the gut, Tobirama gasped, feeling all the air whoosh out of his lungs as unbidden, another memory surged over him.  
  
  
_He was on his back, panting softly as he stared up at the wooden slats that formed the ceiling of his office. The cold hardwood of the floor provided little comfort against the various aches and bruises he could feel throughout his body. Tobirama turned his head sideways, tentatively burying his face in the thick, black mane of the person laying atop him, head nestled in the crook of Tobirama's shoulder. He inhaled slowly, sweat, smoke and the sweet-sour tang of umeshu filling his lungs even as he tried to be subtle so as not to alert the person of his action. He felt it before he heard it, an abrupt puff of warm air against his shoulder as the person huffed in what he knew by now was barely veiled contempt. He hadn't been as subtle as he thought then._  
  
_Despite the recent exertions and the furnace-like body covering his, Tobirama felt cold inside as a familiar leaden feeling settled heavily in his chest. Even so, he kept his face carefully blank as the other man finally stirred. Pushing himself up with a grunt, Madara Uchiha loomed over him, face mere inches from his own as he braced himself with a forearm on either side of Tobirama's head._  
  
_"I hate you," the man intoned, not for the first time. Full lips curled into a sneer as he stared into Tobirama's eyes, mangekyo spinning indolently , a threat and a taunt at once._  
  
_Tobirama stared back unflinchingly, long accustomed to the Uchiha's attempts to perturb him with his deadly doujutsu. If Madara truly wished to kill him via Tsukuyomi aided psychological torture, he would've done it by now. Not that the sight of the cursed eyes he'd been raised to hate and avoid all his life didn't stiffen his spine everytime he caught sight of it; but he'd mostly learned to conceal any anxiety he felt in this regard. In this at least, he would not give Madara the satisfaction._  
  
_Tipping his head back, Tobirama raised his brows, "I know," he replied easily, allowing his lips to curve into a sardonic smirk as if he couldn't care less._  
  
_As if he didn't feel something inside him shrivel and die everytime he heard those three words._  
  
_Madara narrowed his eyes, sharingan red shifting to coal black as he frowned down at Tobirama. He then proceeded to dip his head, slowly moving down Tobirama's bare body before coming to rest at his stomach, planting his face in the younger man's navel. He moved his arms further up, loosely draping his hands over Tobirama's shoulders._  
  
_Tobirama vaguely wondered why the two of them bothered with all the posturing. Who were they even trying to convince? Who was Madara trying to convince? Tobirama at least, was honest to himself._  
  
_Just as soon as he finished the thought, a ragged gasp cut through the air, shortly followed by a warm wetness where Madara's head was still buried against his stomach. It took him a few seconds but he could just barely make out what the older man was mumbling, a continuous litany of 'I hate you's' even as his arms curled tighter around Tobirama's body._  
  
_Tobirama raised his head slightly to look down his chest at the man clutching at him desperately even as he proclaimed his apparent distate towards him._  
  
_Letting his head thud back onto the ground, Tobirama stared up unseeingly, wondering when this had become his life. Being in love with a man who couldn't stop being ashamed of being in love with him and yet couldn't seem to stay away from him._  
  
_Tobirama could understand really, where Madara was coming from. It had to be hard enough, being forced to live and work in close quarters with his brother's murderer day in and day out. He couldn't imagine doing the same if Hashirama's sword had struck true that day, had Madara not stopped him._  
  
_To begin lusting after said brother's murderer was inconvenient but could be explained away by hormones and libido and all that passive agression between the two of them needing **some**  kind of outlet. But to grow to care for the murderer?_  
  
_"What kind of person does that make me?," Madara had asked him once before, in a vulnerable moment._  
  
_"A person who is learning to move on," Tobirama had replied with equanimity._  
  
_Apparently, that hadn't been the right answer because Madara was on him in an instant, gloved hands a vice around Tobirama's neck as he pinned him to the wall of his home._  
  
_"And if it were Hashirama in Izuna's place? And I in yours?," Madara had growled back, "Would you have been able to do the same? ' **Move on** '?" His sharingan had been spinning wildly, chakra a roiling, alive thing roaring just beneath his skin like he was barely holding himself back from inflicting great violence on the Senju. _  
  
_Tobirama had had no good reply to that. His feet dangled above the ground, he was quickly running out of air to breathe and Tobirama was **just so tired**. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. A million words had been stirring in his chest, straining to get past his lips. Apologies and condolences and comforting words but none of them could bring Izuna back. No words he could speak would truly ease Madara's heart. Not coming from the one who'd wielded the blade that had stolen the man's precious brother's life away. _  
  
_Nothing could ever erase Tobirama's greatest mistake and deepest regret._  
  
_Turning his face away, he'd simply mumbled 'It was war. It was either him or I.'_  
  
_The hands around his neck eased. The ensuing coughing fit as he tried to regulate his breathing hadn't concealed Madara's next words despite how deadly quiet they had been._  
  
_"It should've been you," the older man had said, icy cold and bitter before he'd spun on his heels and stalked out of Tobirama's home._  
  
_So really, Tobirama did understand why Madara did not, **would not**  return his affections._  
  
_That did not make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow. Nobody likes being a dirty secret._  
  
_'And now here we are, months later, won't hold on, can't let go,' Tobirama mused bitterly. Nothing's changed. Or rather nothing's seemingly changed._  
  
_Tobirama wasn't blind. He knew Madara was not okay despite the half baked appearances he put up for Hashirama's sake. The misplaced guilt over Izuna's death, the added guilt over fraternizing with Izuna's killer, the perceived sense of failure over his inability to adequately represent his clan's interests by failing to be elected Kage, the paranoia about the Uchiha being marginalized over time in Konoha. It was all slowly eroding at Madara's sanity day by day and Tobirama had **tried**  but Madara wouldn't listen. Not when he believed Tobirama to be one of the people conspiring against him. His own clan whispered about their clan head's excessive paranoia and creeping insanity. They couldn't understand why he wanted them to abandon a village he himself had founded, break a peace he himself had brokered. Their trust in him waned everyday and while Madara was many things, the man was not an idiot. He could see the Uchiha's declining regard for him. Very soon, there'd be little to keep Madara tethered to the village. He wouldn't stay._  
  
_Not for a clan that reviled him, not for a friendship he'd given up on years ago, not for a lover he wouldn't let himself love back._  
  
_Running his hands through the wild hair of the broken man buried against him, Tobirama pretended not to hear the wretched sobs wrecking through his body, pretended not to feel the hot tears running down the sides of his belly, pooling in his navel._  
  
_Pretended not to feel the tears running down the side of his own face as he silently mourned what could've been. What would never be._  
  
  
"-kura-chan!" Tobirama caught the tail end of his name whined out by a childish, tinny voice to his right as he was abruptly jarred back to the present. Slowly blinking heavy eyes, it took him a moment to re-orient himself as he looked around blankly. In the next moment, he realized that the  _whole class_  was staring at him. Tobirama barely resisted the urge to sigh out loud. While his episodes were disruptive, he'd learned to roll with them enough so as not to express any outward reaction. There could be only one reason why their attention was attracted.  
  
' _Stupid anija. Being noisy and making a scene as usual_ ,' Tobirama thought peevishly. He was proven right when he heard another high-pitched 'Sakura-chan!' from beside him, accompanied by a little poke. Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to shush Naruto comfortingly before looking around at his unwitting audience, "Oh I'm fine, fine! Just a bit of a blocked sinus," making a show of rubbing his nose as waved one hand in a careless motion. The other children thankfully began turning away disinterestedly while the teacher just raised an eyebrow curiously and asked if she wanted to go see a medic-nin in the hospital nearby. Tobirama assured him she was fine for now.  
  
Once she was sure the teacher's attention was no longer on her, green eyes swivelled over to look towards the direction that had started this whole mess to begin with, almost unconsciously like he just  _couldn't_  help it. She hadn't been expecting a pair of pitch black eyes to be staring back however.  
  
Tobirama's eyes widened before they narrowed dangerously, lips automatically pulling down into a contemptuous sneer like a familiar knee jerk response to the person before he could stop it.  
  
Sasuke jumped ever so slightly, understandably startled and unable to comprehend what he'd done to merit such a severe reaction. To his credit however, he recovered quickly, eyebrows furrowing in offense and lips stretching into what was probably an attempt at mimicking Sakura's sneer but only came out as an angry pout on the young boy before he whipped his head away.  
  
Tobirama bit his lip, trying to suppress the laughter that wanted to bubble up his throat at the sight of that pout and the way the boy's spikes still seemed to bristle in affront even if he refused to look at her any longer. ' _Adorable_ ,' rolled through her head before she immediately berated himself for such a ridiculous thought.  
  
He really hadn't meant to make such a disparaging expression at the boy. He'd just been looking afterall, curious like the other kids. But when it came to Madara, or whatever different forms he came in, Tobirama could seldom hold on to his more rational senses.  
  
' _It's for the better_ ,' he told himself even as he a felt painfully familiar twinge inside. He would not make the same mistake twice. He wanted no comradery with the Uchiha. He wanted nothing to do with the boy.  
  
Sasuke was just as much Madara as Sakura was Tobirama, perhaps even more so despite the seeming absence of any recollection of a past life. The man had the fortune to be reborn into the same clan, had the gall to even  _look_  a great deal like his former self even if all those sharp angles and high cheekbones were currently buried under layers of baby fat. But even if he was just an innocent child now, he would grow up one day.  
  
And Tobirama knew only too well exactly what kind of man Sasuke had the potential to grow into, was  _most likely_  to grow into.  
  
Tobirama had been gifted a great many sorrows and a great many gifts in life. Love was simply not one of them.  
  
' _And that's okay_.' He had long made his peace with that fact. Green eyes narrowed in determination, directing one last sharp glance at the boy before looking back ahead. This time, he would not let his emotions cloud his judgement, he would not be wilfully blind to events playing out before his very eyes. ' _I will not fail, I will protect my brother, protect **myself**_.'  
  
Small hands cleched into fists, ignoring the sharp bite of blunt nails digging into the soft skin on his palm.  
  
This time, he would be ready.

________________________________________________

If he'd known how badly he was jinxing himself on the day he'd vowed to himself stay away from Madara Uchiha, he would've just kept his fool mouth shut.  
  
Even as he inwardly thought all sorts of uncharitable things about Madara, outwardly, his face was a study in equanimity. After all, nothing annoyed the other boy more than Tobirama not getting annoyed.  
  
"You should return my test papers Sasuke-kun. I've don't see what purpose they could possibly serve you." Tobirama eyed the boy warily as he spoke. Sasuke grinned impishly in response, oozing all the unrepentant mischief of an 8 year old.  
  
"No," he said simply, holding the papers just within Tobirama's reach, trying to tempt him into reaching for it.  
  
As if he would fall for such a juvenile trick. Tobirama refused to make undignified grabbing motions. It was  _beneath_  him.  
  
"No," Tobirama repeated blankly, hoping his face conveyed exactly just how much of an idiot he thought the other boy was. Madara seemed to have read his expression, if that small frown was anything to go by before it smoothed back into that cheeky grin of before. "Come and get it," he coaxed, wriggling the papers. Tobirama sighed internally, wondering how he'd got himself into this situation.  
  
Honestly, he should've expected this. Nothing quite got you Madara's attention as  _not_  giving him your attention did. The Uchiha were a proud, flamboyant people and Madara embodied these traits to a fault. Of course he wouldn't take well to being blatantly ignored, especially not after that little glare Tobirama had thrown his way on their first day.  
  
Now six months later, Tobirama could finally admit to himself that maybe he regretted that action a little bit. Just a smidge. ' _No doubt, he took it as a challenge_ ,' Tobirama bemoaned. And to make it worse...  
  
"Hey, leave her alone Teme! Give those back!" Hashirama came up behind her, nudging her to the side so he could shove his face up against the Uchiha and glare at him.  
  
Possibly the most jarring thing about this lifetime so far was how much Madara and Hashirama seemed to  _not_  get along. In all fairness, Madara was still pretty much the same. All rough on the edges and prickly. It was  _Hashirama_  who had changed. Well, not changed all  _that_  much. He was still a loudmouthed, overly optimistic fool who spent most of his days with his foot in his mouth. But his approach to Madara, his responses to the boy were a far cry from what it used to be like.  
  
Before, Hashirama would either ignore or just steamroll right over all of Madara's bristling and moodiness, shamelessly hugging the man, babbling cheerfully and endlessly to him or at him. Hashirama talked and Madara listened, whether he wanted to or not. When Madara would be upset, Hashirama would hover and worry and fret and whine at him till he broke down and spoke to him and then Hashirama would proceed to drown Madara in his positive vibes and smooth over any ruffled feathers. On the rare occasion that Hashirama found himself upset, Madara would get all sombre and sit down with the man, radiating calm and listen and talk to the man till he managed to get Hashirama settled. That was the dynamic of their relationship. Tobirama may not have understood a great many things about his brother or his lover but he had understood and respected their friendship, even if it took peace and the building of a village and far too many years for him to do so.  
  
Tobirama watched the current pair of the two clowns. No more did the two hold the endless patience they used to have for each other's eccentricities. Sasuke was outright scowling now, all hints of playfullness gone from his expression as he sniped at the blonde boy. Naruto gave as good as he got, yelling loudly at the dark haired boy as he attempted to snatch the papers from him, apparently not above such things.  
  
A part of him had resented their friendship for a great deal of his previous life. Logically, he'd been concerned that Hashirama's soft spot for the enemy would get him gutted one day, had later worried that Madara would use their friendship to take advantage of Hashirama. They'd been enemies for centuries. How could he possibly trust his childlike, unassuming brother with the Uchiha wretch?  
  
Less logically, he'd resented Madara for taking his big brother away from him. Things between Hashirama and him had never been the same after Madara came into his life. And this was even before that day at the river. Hashirama had discovered a boy from another clan who had shared his dreams of peace and immediately decided he was a kindred soul. Had forgotten all about the younger brother who had supported and shared his dreams first, who had defended him against their father's wrath, had respected him even when Hashirama himself wouldn't give himself much credit. And suddenly, it was all gone. He was forgotten in lieu of stranger on the other side of the riverbank. That day at the river had just been the final nail in the coffin.  
And finally,  _finally_  when the village was built, it was Hashirama and  _Madara's_  dream and Tobirama was nowhere in the picture.  
  
Tobirama knew it was stupid to blame Madara for the way Hashirama had acted. He couldn't even really blame Hashirama for outgrowing his little brother. It was simply  _Tobirama_  who never outgrew his elder brother. Logically, he  _understood_  all this.  
  
That didn't stop a part of him from being bitter at Madara for being freely handed what he'd yearned and worked for his whole life. For being allowed to be more of a brother to Hashirama than Tobirama could ever hope to be despite being born as the man's biological brother.  
  
He'd be lying if he said that part of him wasn't the tiniest bit gratified to see them go off at each other now, even if the rest of him recoiled away from the childish, petty thoughts.  
  
Tobirama cocked his head slightly, watching the two boys who had grabbed each other by their collars now as they bared their teeth at the other. Despite their explosive interactions, he knew it was not truly antagonistic. He didn't believe the two boys actually held any real malice towards each other. No matter the lifetime, Hashirama and Madara it seemed, would always find their way to each other. Only this time, it had developed into an unspoken friendship streaked with tough love rather than hitting it right off the bat like they had in their last life. Tobirama suspected it had something to do with their vastly different social circles. His brother was an orphan afterall (and if that still didn't break his heart everytime he thought of it since he'd made the discovery months ago) and Sasuke was the heir of noble clan, one of the founding clans at that. They had little in common. In the absence of similar backgrounds, war and strife and a mutual desire for peace and the other things they had bonded over last time, the competitive streak that had always been a part of Madara and Hashirama's relationship had taken over. A bit of childish rivalry more anything (mostly, courtesy of his brother) and this time around, she sometimes found herself with the dubious honour of being the catalyst.  
  
It was honestly more annoying than vindicating really. Not when he  _knew_  the idiots didn't actually hate each other. He was a sensor, he could  _feel_  how tickled the two of them were, how much they  _enjoyed_  their banter, even if it was mostly overshadowed by their mutual chagrin.  
  
Tobirama snorted. Fools.  
  
"That's enough you guys. Stop it," he chided, finally getting in between and separating them with one hand even as he deftly snatched his papers back from the Uchiha's grabby hands with the other.  
  
"Butt out Sakura- Yeah stay out of this Sakura-chan!" The two of them tried to tell her off, conveniently forgetting they'd gotten into their little scuffle over  _her_. Tobirama glanced up briefly from his perfect scores to throw them a look that was highly unimpressed and murderous all at once, smugly satisfied when she saw them startle and quickly slink off in opposite directions.  
  
Pleased, he looked back down at his papers. It had been quite the pleasant surprise, how well his disapproving expressions seemed to work on the two boys. His dirty looks had seldom garnered him favourable responses in his past life, the two hardheaded idiots too embroiled in their own mayhem to do more than spare him a passing glance. Now though, it worked like a charm. He'd suspect it had something to do with the two still being young, impressionable children. But he'd grown up with Hashirama. The thick skin wasn't an acquired trait. He'd been  _born_  obnoxious. He had a strong feeling it had to do with the fact that he was now a girl. He knew it wasn't always the case with civilians but shinobi were raised to respect women a great deal. He would never forget how Mito had been able to bring his brother into line with a single, withering glance. He remembered how many times both Hashirama and  _himself_  had been reined in by Touka without lifting a finger.  
  
Tobirama smirked. He was rather beginning to enjoy his female body and the little perks it granted him.  
  
This was going to interesting.

________________________________________________

  
"I really don't think that's a good idea, Ino-chan," Tobirama muttered uncomfortably, shifting against the tree they were leaning against.  
  
Another unforeseen aspect of being born female - girl talk. It seemed he had once again, spoken far too soon. Apparently, a lot more went into being a believable girl than getting to boss around boys.  
  
Hence why he was now on the fence on this whole being a girl business. Case in point..  
  
"But he's so amazing! So cool!" Ino swooned, eyes shining fervidly as she stared at the aforementioned amazing person, hands clasped in front of her chest.  
  
Tobirama very emphatically wanted to disagree. He knew exactly how  _not cool_  the person was. Being the only one who'd been the closest thing to an actual relationship Madara Uchiha had ever had his entire life as far as Tobirama knew (and Tobirama knew a fair amount of things), he felt he was more than qualified to make the assessment. The man was irrational, short-tempered, condescending and had a real sadistic streak at times.  
  
He was also a great many other far more redeeming things but Tobirama stubbornly refused to think of those.  
  
"He's a jerk is what he is. I don't know what you see in him." Tobirama replied instead, not particularly kind but definitely a step up from the far more uncharitable things he actually wanted to say.  
  
The Yamanaka finally deemed to look over at her pink haired friend, eyebrows raised in disbelief as she watched her, far too shrewdly for an 8 year old, "Why do you even dislike him so much? You have to agree that he's really something else! Unless..." Ino trailed off.  
  
"Unless what?" Tobirama bit out defensively, crossing his arms across his chest. He did not like the implications of Ino's tone. He could feel a warning prickle at his nape, his intuition was screaming at him that he was not going to like what was going come out of Ino's mouth.  
  
Ino faltered slightly at Tobirama's warning tone but gathered herself admirably well. Raising her chin, Ino narrowed her eyes.  
  
"You like Sasuke-kun too! You're just trying to drive out the competition!" Ino accused, one arm raised and accusingly pointing at Tobirama.  
  
' _What have I done to deserve this_ ,' Tobirama thought morosely as he gaped at Ino. He really didn't want to deal with this. He'd only been trying to look out for his little friend. This was  _Madara Uchiha_  for all that he was currently wearing the face of an angelic 8 year old boy. He knew it was unfair to judge the boy based just off his past self's actions, but he wasn't making an idle assessment based on just a few off putting traits. Madara was a traitor and a criminal and vastly dangerous. That kind of thing wasn't skin deep and while he knew Madara wasn't born a horrid human being, he certainly had the potential to be one. He was not an easy person to be with. He wouldn't wish a man like Madara on anyone, least of all a dear friend. It was certainly not out of any desire to keep Sasuke for himself. One lifetime was quite sufficient for him thank you very much.  
  
Of course, Ino had no way of knowing all that. How could he possibly explain it to a dewy eyed child?  
  
It seemed he had taken too long to provide an answer and in that time, Ino had drawn her own conclusions. Lowering her hand back down to her side, fist clenched, Ino bowed her head, eerily quiet. Tobirama briefly contemplated correcting Ino's misconception but quickly discarded the idea, knowing it would only look disingenuous at this point.  
  
"I see," the other girl murmured slowly, eyes shadowed. Tobirama resisted the urge to sigh loudly, not wanting to seem callous. It was just a schoolyard crush, one Ino would likely grow out of so really, the blonde was taking this far too seriously. He knew better than to voice these thoughts though. He knew first-hand how sensitive children could be. Blatant disregard for their feelings (no matter how trivial it may seem to an adult mind) did nobody any favours. Ino was just a child and for all intents and purposes, so was Sakura.  
  
Finally raising her head, Ino looked directly at Sakura, determination etched into the small face. "I cannot give up Sasuke-kun Sakura. Not even for you." Stepping back, Ino pointed a finger in her face again, "From today, we are rivals. Be prepared!" She declared before turning around and running off.  
  
Tobirama watched her go, absently fiddling with the end of her hairband, the one Ino had gifted her, encouraging her to let her forehead show, to not feel so conscious of her features. Tobirama smiled ever so slightly. The simple, mindless kindness of children. There was a reason he loved them so much.  
  
' _Arigatou, Ino-chan_.'

Finally taking her eyes of the retreating blonde, Tobirama cast his gaze back to the subject of their conversation, her source of eternal turmoil.  
  
Sasuke remained blissfully unaware, completely absorbed in his shuriken practice. They'd been relieved from the Academy a while back but Sasuke, being the dutiful little shinobi that he was had stayed behind for some extra shuriken practice. Being a genius was still 99% hardwork after all. Talent did not give you a free pass on effort. It seemed Madara had, among other things, carried his admirable work ethic to his second life as well.  
  
No scratch that. What was he thinking? There was nothing admirable about the rascal Uchiha.  
  
Tobirama shook his head, trying to clear his head of the unwanted thoughts. Of course, he wouldn't be having these unwanted thoughts hadn't it been for Ino who'd wanted to stay behind just because Sasuke was staying back and by extension had made Sakura stay back.  
  
'And now she's ditched me and run off god knows where.' He mused, more exasperated than annoyed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" A curious voice asked above her. Tobirama looked up, startled. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't even noticed the smoky chakra of the Uchiha boy approaching him. Tobirama blinked a couple of times, slightly disoriented before his eyes narrowed when he registered the question.  
  
"Last I checked, this is the Academy practice area and I'm fairly sure you do not have exclusive rights to it Uchiha." He snarked, scowling. While Madara always managed to get under his skin with barely any effort, he usually did a better job of keeping his composure around the man. Face blank and voice flat even if he was seething on the inside.  
  
Today however, he had far too much weighing on his mind and very little patience for one of Sasuke's attempts to pick a fight with him.  
  
However, as she continued to look at the boy, she realized that cheeky grin he wore when usually attempting to rile her up was absent. He didn't look smug for having managed to annoy her so quickly. Rather, the boy was frowning, looking a little hurt by her snappish reply.  
  
Her thoughts were confirmed when the boy replied, shoulders hunched and hands tucked into the pocket of his white shorts as he kicked at a little rock on the ground. "No need to get all prickly. I was only asking because I don't usually see you here after school. Why are you always so grumpy, taking everything I say the wrong way. I was just trying to make conversation," He groused, bottom lip sticking out as he looked off to the side.  
  
Tobirama gawked at the boy for a few seconds. Grumpy? Take things the wrong way? This coming from the boy who never gave up an opportunity to rub her the wrong way. An irrational anger flooded Tobirama. It was just like Madara to do this. Do things to piss people off and then getting mad when they responded in kind.

When Madara finally looked back at him, Tobirama was glowering at him. "Don't act as if you know me. You don't. And there is absolutely no need for you to make conversation with me Uchiha. We're not friends. I don't want to be friends with you."  
Getting to his feet, Tobirama brushed the dirt and leaves off her dress before reaching behind her to pick her backpack off the ground. When she returned her gaze to Sasuke, the boy was frozen, a stunned expression on his face that was quickly blooming into anger if the bright red spots on his cheeks and furrowing eyebrows were any indication. Even so, his big dark eyes shone with hurt as he stared at Sakura.  
  
Ignoring those eyes, Tobirama chose to focus on the rest of his face, his scowling mouth that was opening to, no doubt, launch into a lengthy angry rant. Hurriedly, Tobirama cut him off before he could get going, unable to stand another second around this confusing person and all the confusing emotions he made her feel. "Just stay away from me." She growled, matching his glare before stalking off in the direction of home, decidedly not thinking about the dulled, gloomy chakra signature at her back.  
  
Madara Uchiha could throw himself off a cliff for all she cared. What concern was it of hers?

________________________________________________

  
Reaching home, she barely muttered a greeting at her parents before brushing past them. She needed to be alone right now.  
  
Stepping into his room, he didn't bother with the lights, simply dropping his backpack beside the door before treading over to the window. At 6 years of age, he was just tall enough to place his arms along the sill, resting his head on his folded arms as he peered at the darkening town below.  
  
He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, leaning against the window. It must've been a while because the sun had completely disappeared from the horizon, the pinkish-purple haze of twilight traded in for the milky glow of moonlight. He was just contempating heading downstairs to see about dinner when he felt it. A powerful wave the likes of which he'd never felt before in this life, felt a scant few times in his past life.  
  
Fear. Anger. Torment. Pain. Death.  
  
Tobirama staggered, only keeping his feet under him because of the window he was leaning against. He was no stranger to death. Being a sensor made him far too acutely aware of it. Aware of exactly what people felt when they were in their last moments. The shock of being a dealt a fatal blow, a split second denial followed by a crushing acceptance. Some felt frustrated and furious, not ready to die yet, not ready to let go. Some felt relieved, glad to be rid of their hellish existence. Some died so quickly they never made it past the intial awareness of impending demise. Then there were the long drawn out deaths, people who were bleeding out, people whose comrades were trying to save them. Those were the worst, full of anguish and turmoil and nostalgia and pain pain pain. It was all far too common during war.  
  
Then there were times when it was just one seemingly endless cycle of suffering, multiple people dying at once, at various stages, in various ways. The kind where people were caught unawares, were being slaughtered like pigs in an abbatoir.  
  
Nothing left him reeling quite like those.  
  
Tobirama was nowhere at his full sensing capacities at his current age, did not know if he would ever be with this body like he'd been at his prime back when he'd still been a Senju.  
  
Which was why he couldn't really sense much beyond his immediate neighbourhood unless he was really straining himself. But this, this massive pulse of grief, of chakras being snuffed out like candles in the dark was so potent, so strong he felt it all the way from the other side of the village. There was no doubt, he knew those fiery, smoky, incandescent chakra signatures far too well to make a mistake.  
  
Despite the overwhelming barrage against his senses, one thought continued to ravage his mind, sent blades of icy fear through his veins, thoughts of a little boy with big dark eyes and a bigger bright grin.  
  
_Sasuke. Please be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yeah so this is super late. I guess I should've known better than to declare weekly updates for a story still being written. Pitfalls of an amateur writer. *sighs* 
> 
> I wish I could do weekly updates but I don't want to make promises I can't keep. Updates will be inconsistent, as and when I finish writing. Please bear with me. 
> 
> I struggled to write this chapter and I'm sorry if it shows. I'm still not completely happy with it but it's better and bigger than the version I was going to post a week ago. Hopefully, I will be leaving this god-awful mental block behind. Hope you like this! ^^

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of [Part 6 of the Ame_colours Naruto prompt series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16187339)  
> MadaTobi reincarnation plot. Thank you for this wonderful prompt ame!
> 
>    
> Hey guys. This is my first attempt at writing a full length fic. Or any fanfic at all for that matter. Comments/constructive criticism are much appreciated. Please do not senselessly bash however. It will be hard for me to construe any meaningful advice from that. Also, English isn't my first language so if I make any obvious, glaring errors, my apologies. I'll try my best to be articulate. Also, I'm sorry if the format looks wonky on whatever medium you're using. It looks fine on Chrome mobile and desktop. I'm still trying to figure out how posting works. Thank you for your interest!


End file.
